Migraines and Sports

Published August 26, 2024 by helentastic67

I’ve had migraines since I was young. I don’t remember when they began, I just remember how my Mum solved them. I remember she made a furtive call to whom I didn’t know. Then she would take me on a drive, across town, out on the old freeway, down the road opposite my first primary school, down a dirt road that was a driveway, and after parking next to a building, we entered from the back into a waiting room. it had plywood panels on the walls with long coloured ribbons hanging around most of the wall space.

Apparently, my osteo was also a bull breeder that had awards, not your average osteo. He had a rather Dutch name. Upon entering a buzzer alerted the Doctor his patient had arrived and he would come in before we even sat down.

I remember the last time I went to see him; my dad had offered to take me as he had come home from work and as my Mum had been busy making dinner he volunteered to take me. He didn’t know where it was so with my migraine I directed him. I have to say, he did not trust the location for this “hocus pocus” form of medicine. I remember going inside and how uncomfortable he was. The Doctor arrived and I had to remove my T-Shirt, never does a 12-year-old girl feel so uncomfortable. a towel draped over my non-existent boobies, adjustments, massage and stretching and a payment made then back home again for the magic to settle the pain.

Forty years later, I still see a chiropractor and yesterday I told her I’d had a weeklong Walking/Talking migraine which is my regular these days, it’s just enough to annoy me but not enough to cripple me so I can ignore adulting and responsibilities and just go to bed.

She asked what parts of my face was I feeling it? Because I can usually narrow it down. Left eye, right eye, the thing, the thing or the other thing, this time, while lying on my back I used my hand to wave over my face. “My face! my whole fucking face! like I’ve been hit in the face with a basketball!” I’m really glad people can find humour in my pain.

I do sometimes wonder what happened to that Osteo who breeds bulls and I did about 15 years ago see someone down in Geelong that turned out to be the nephew with the same surname. What a tiny world we live in. It does weirdly help.

Problem Solving

Published August 19, 2024 by helentastic67

Problem Solving

Sometimes, family that don’t spend time together, having to work on a problem together helps form bonds.

Once upon a time, the first time I moved house after my disability and after my removalist cancelled five hours after he was to have started the job, by which time when he rang me to tell me he’d had to go to hospital and I would have preferred to have heard from his next of kin to tell me he had DIED.

My Mum, then early sixties and me one-handed, arrived at my new home to find my bed had not been put together by my removalists. To their credit, it wasn’t actually their job to put things together and I had been warned because when I was contacted for payment, they told me they had eventually given up and left because they didn’t want to waste my money. In both of our defence mum and I were both exhausted. Mum with upper back problems, me with recent lower back disc bulge surgery, we walked in the door and mum had already decided I would sleep on my mattress on the floor.

Not far from the front door I went to my bedroom door, took about two seconds to assess and problem solve what the men had not managed to work out. “The base is the wrong way around!” Mum literally dismissed this and told me I could sleep on the floor. I, however, was not going to make this bed twice, nor make her. I should probably mention, my bed was made by my dad, a builder, or a carpenter (a Chippy!) back when I was twenty-four-ish. It’s a timber Sleigh Bed. Although wisely at the time he convinced me to not shave the foot of the bed as tall as the bed head. Half the bedrooms that bed has been in, I’ve not been able to move around even three sides of the bed. Even the bedroom I have now, getting down the end of the bed to my ensuite, I hover to go sideways and my bedroom door does NOT close. So, the base of my bed is a slat base, I’ve recently described it as glued and screwed and built into a sturdy box, so it doesn’t move. Even twenty-five plus years later.

I encouraged mum to push boxes with heavy art books in them across the floor to put under the timber mattress. I helped and using only four or five, it took the weight of the base. I wriggled the foot of the bed and leaned it against the wall. We both pulled just a fraction on the base to detach it from the bed head, leaning that also against the other wall. We then carefully replaced the base, reattached the bed head then perfectly slotting the foot back onto the base. All the bolt holes matched. I recall we were both spent but I was determined. I think mum left me to sort the bolts. Fair, wriggling on the carpet to each corner then two bolts into the middle of the centre of the base into the bed head. With the shifter to tighten and it was done.

The Average Day of Getting Sh*t Done – Part 2

Published August 11, 2024 by helentastic67

The Average Day of Getting Sh*t Done Part 2

As you may recall, it was as per usual bestowed upon me to sort out getting my mobility scooter back on the footpath (it does not go, or should not be driven on the road) somebody had asked me in this process, there should be somebody to do this for me? I really wanted to give her a “Yes! You Bitch!” but we all know that’s not appropriate? Hence, why this ‘Bitch’ did it with little help.

I think the same day service took two weeks in which time I could have been out every day on my scooter and it was all the more exhausting without Hellowheels. It also only cost me 80% of the NDIS funding (for repairs) I have for such things and all the other things I can’t get, for instance, reports etc. So I can get them done?

You will be pleased to hear I had asked if I could get NOS installed? It’s OK, he didn’t know what this was either.

I referred to the Fast & the Furious franchise, where even if you only saw the first film, I described it as that magic button the drivers use at the critical point in the drag race to increase speed.

NOS, apparently Nitrous? Google has not helped me further on this, but it’s enough, right? After Eric was done installing my new batteries, all while I was doing my intro over the phone on speaker, Eric returned, letting himself into my apartment with my spare keys, he had almost forgotten to return them. I offered him a homemade Black Forest Biscuit, suggesting me take it for his drive as he bit into it right in front of me.

When he returned with my keys, he touched the bridge of his nose informing me he just realized he had bumped his nose as it had dried blood on it. I told him to “Come here!” as I opened a jar beside me on the couch and “take this and go look in the mirror in there!” I transferred the cream from my finger to his in my efforts to provide basic First Aid.

Eric departed and I wound up my call, doing my own referral over the phone to my new Shrink.

It’s all in a day’s work. I’m also while very grateful I have the capacity to do this, if I couldn’t who would?

Normal

Published July 29, 2024 by helentastic67

Normal

Here is something different today for you.

It annoys the fuck out of me that when I dare to imagine life can be more about what normal people take for granted, that despite how I put all the things in place, shit goes sideways and despite my best effort, in my effort to put bandaids on it, the bandaids start to need bandaids and eventually it’s too late to perform a miracle. I need to be rescued or I need a lifeboat.

By then I’ll pull the plug on doing something more in the league of doing “Normal” and it takes a lot to get motivated to try again.

I Live Alone

Published July 21, 2024 by helentastic67

I Live Alone

In previously mentioned zoom meeting, we discussed many things. One point came up where it was revealed a few of us live alone. One woman I had not met before stated “I live alone because I like the company!” Or it’s what I thought she said, but I responded with “I live alone because I fucking hate people!”

Turns out she had also stated she has the radio on because she likes the company, I still stand by my statement.

It’s not easy living with others when you have disabilities. It’s not easy to live alone either. It’s something I’ve tried to do since forever and its common to be taken advantage of financially and otherwise.

So I’ve heard.

Brittle

Published July 15, 2024 by helentastic67

Brittle

So, was in a Zoom meeting this week with a group I really enjoy being part of. It’s not completely women and sometimes I’ve been known to use the term, “Ladies!” Later thinking Damn it! Fucked it again.

Alas, I digress, at the start of every meeting we go around the group and do an internal weather check-in. If you are thinking this is soft, think again. It’s a chance to check in and find out how everybody is. Some meetings it’s also useful if there is anything that will get in the way of the meeting. In that meeting, I’m always tired, but share, I’ve got “Medicine and treats!” to get me through, medicine being coffee and treats being chocolate coated coffee beans just to begin.

I still got caught resting my eyes during the financial reports of that meeting. How do I know where the money went? I didn’t take it. Nothing worse than struggling to keep your eyes open and someone has obviously noticed because the split second your eyes stay closed a millisecond too long, they curtly say your name. PRESENT! Anyway, in the check in I mentioned I was feeling brittle. Going through the existential crisis again and then was a little too broken up to speak. But it became the topic of the day. My common crisis revolves around. Is this it now?

I have no real way to work to improve my financial situation, as I let go of groups and contacts I’ve been associated to in over fifteen years, I have reached my level to tolerate people and trying to make change in a group setting.

The two groups I’m still part of, I stay connected because I feel it’s always good to remain tethered somewhere. If you don’t and can’t work, you can’t drive to explore and be fully independent, your connections cease to be family, who might be far away, but people who actively choose to be part of your life.

There are always layers to grief and not just the loss of loved ones but the end of friendships, the history and shared experiences during the hard times. And the older we get the harder it is to give a flying tutti fruity to make new friends.

Middle Age

Published July 8, 2024 by helentastic67

Middle Age

I feel I’m now of an age (51) where when younger people, particularly those in their early twenty’s mention “when they were at school….” I pre-empt their next statement with “so, yesterday?”

I’m not going up to these very young humans out on the street, so I know they will take my comment with the humour it implies, because in the last fifteen years or so since my disability, I’ve had a lot of younger people with more qualifications than I have that I’ve forged friendships with.

The only problem with this, after you get over the music/pop-culture/etc differences where I give out lots of homework and eventually, they get who the likes of Diana Ross is.

Oh yeah, I take out my hair and I’ll catch a view of my boofy hair in a mirror. Even Mika doesn’t understand what has happened and who this weird woman is. I’m weird. Diana Ross? Not weird. You know that if you don’t know who that is? You just got homework. You’re welcome.

Then there’s the younger people in my life that have the freedoms to travel, work abroad, get married, settle down. Aaaaawwwwwhhhhhhh, it’s adorable, you can be happy for them and sad for me at the same time.

And I can just hope they circle back into my world at a later date and I get to hear about all the exciting things they have done in their absence.

More Words of Wisdom

Published July 1, 2024 by helentastic67

More Words of Wisdom

I guess you might consider this a Community Service Announcement, because somebody needs to do it and you’re welcome.

There is an age bracket, I think I’m part of these days of women, who love to get out in their animal print dresses, tops, pants. It’s the age of, “I’ve got the crazy lady hormones and some extra weight” as we all do and it’s considered if there is ever a time. There isn’t ever.

As well as, in every gathering there is one obvious standout woman trying to camouflage with a busy dress or top. If there is only one in a group or gathering, then I think they chat on a communal communication page that they have the animal print for that particular event or gathering.

Can we let it go, please? Also, we don’t need a younger generation trying to reinvent this one. It’s been done to death. Let it go!

Let’s leave animal print to the animals.

Frustrated

Published June 24, 2024 by helentastic67

Frustrated

Honestly! Some days, if Effort equals Outcomes, I’d have billions and gold medals. If I could be rewarded for people wasting my fucking time. I would OWN my suburb, because I would put it into real estate. But alas, I cannot.

But I’ve spent all day before, going to my one appointment trying to have either of my two carer genies to cover my PC shift tomorrow. (PC – Personal Care)

I cannot tell you how many times I had to touch on this issue to solve it and it’s all so I can get to my last Chiropractors appointment before she goes away for a month. So, when I say I’ll shop part of the shift to my other agency, it doesn’t absolve the first agency of the responsibility to cover it until the other agency has:
A. Responded to my requests.
B. Covered the shift.

It doesn’t stop one agency telling me they thought the other had it covered when I very specifically communicate the other has received my request and will work on it. So, multiple methods and even people at the same agency will be contacted or attempted.

Eventually, I generally miss out because they might prioritise training over covering a shift. Which I get, however you can train your staff as much as you like, but you don’t cover clients shifts. You lose clients.

So, it’s any wonder I return home and do a few of my other efforts to remain independent before my brain and my body has had enough and I melt into my couch and become a vegetable on the couch.

This is one of those days I don’t know how Meme Queen is going to brighten this post.

Challenge accepted.

Moving Target

Published June 17, 2024 by helentastic67

Moving Target

I often use the term each day as a Moving Target and I use this in the context that every day is a moving target. By the end of each day, I need to be in less pain, be less tired by the end of the day, have chiseled things on my mental to do list. Have eaten three meals a day. This rarely happens, FYI, I’m ok if it’s two meals and a coffee. My day revolves more around getting sleep, getting to appointments and home again, plus meals or sustenance slots in around these things.

More importantly, I encounter less people I want to kill or deserve to be killed. Harsh words I know. Not advocating to be set loose with free rein here. Not killed anyone yet. Don’t intend to start, but I also limit myself around people and groups that piss me off. Also, the most important thing every day is to get through the day without a migraine. Can we do just that?

Everyday life seems to throw challenges in my face to make that nearly impossible and if I do these things in the earlier part of the day. What will I not be able to do later in the day? It’s always either/or never both.